


It's Absurd

by Ketenn



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Book References & Allusions, Canon Compliant, Chaos, Crack, F/M, Humor, Movie References & Allusions, Romance, Small adventure, Swearing (French), gabenath mini bang, gabenath mini bang 2020, mild alcohol consumption, open-ended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24508357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ketenn/pseuds/Ketenn
Summary: The reception at the Bourgeois manor was supposed to be the normal kind of exceptional. Gabriel Agreste finally graced everyone with his presence, and Nathalie’s only job was to help defend his personal space. But then the lights went out, Adrien ran away, cheese went missing... and it was suddenly up to Nathalie to save the evening. Throw in suspicious characters, a phantom stalker, and an oddly-behaving boss,  and Nathalie suddenly had a very big headache.
Relationships: Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur
Comments: 31
Kudos: 74
Collections: GabeNath Mini Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MadCattery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadCattery/gifts), [owlzerness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlzerness/gifts).



> Huge thanks to MadCattery for beta reading and kicking this story into shape. This fic would be nowhere without endless patience and regarding editing as... fun?  
> And huge thanks to Owlzerness, who made a real leap of faith by giving this fic a chance and creating beautiful art for it. Please, don’t forget to check them out here: https://scribblesfrometheria.tumblr.com/post/619808973974126592/its-absurd-writer-baronessedcheese-beta
> 
> It was amazing working with you, I count myself lucky for ending up in such a great team.

The parties held by the Bourgeois family were always posh. The meetings always revolved around a particular theme or festivity, but everyone knew that these were only made-up reasons. The real purpose behind these parties was to gather the high society and the great names of fashion under one roof, to gloat about the wealth of the Bourgeois household.

The similarly roistering guests loved it. Nathalie Sancœur hated it.

At least, she hated it when she attended in the place of her boss and had to uphold his reputation of being a serious, no-nonsense man, all while holding up a tablet with his face in her hands. No food or champagne was allowed for a professional-looking tablet holder.

But tonight, Nathalie was in attendance as a normal guest, as Gabriel’s cohort. Still, executive assistants never truly rested, not even on their day off, and so Nathalie looked up from the spread of small croissants on the serving table, to check how Gabriel was handling the conversation with two wealthy fashion connoisseurs.

Thanks to Audrey Bourgeois’ constant mocking, Gabriel had been successfully bullied into attending the party in person. If Audrey and Nathalie had not harboured mutual contempt towards each other _and_ if Audrey would view “the secretary” as a fellow human being, Nathalie might actually thank her. Finally, she had an evening during which she could loosen up a bit. Though, yes, only a bit, as she had to stay focused and be ready to intervene should Gabriel’s expression turn cold as ice or that of the couple he was conversing with into indignation.

“Did you hear that there will be a huge wheel of aged cheese?”

She had no idea when Adrien had snuck up next to her, but there he was, stuffing his face enthusiastically while gathering a few more pastries onto his plate, to replace the ones he had eaten on his way around the tables.

“Is this why Mademoiselle Bourgeois chose the colour of cheese for her dress?”

At this, Adrien immediately turned to look at his childhood friend in question. Chloé was wearing a faint yellow dress, and even Nathalie knew how unfit it was for her fair complexion. But Chloé still managed to look like a princess as she held a glass of darker-coloured, alcohol-free champagne.

Adrien chuckled and put a pastry with overly colourful caking on his plate. “You sound like _Père._ ”

There was a hint of playfulness in his voice, so Nathalie found it best not to retort in any way. Instead, she directed her attention to Gabriel again. It seemed the couple he was speaking with either knew that Gabriel was not a man of pleasantries, or they were kindred spirits. She turned back only when she heard the almost singing voices of two children.

“You’re so _taaaaall_...” Two small girls were jumping around Emmanuel, who at some point had moved to the other side of the table to grab a sandwich. Children and adults alike were usually afraid of the “gorilla”, and he was visibly confused, seeing that the tiny twins were not. He grumbled and nodded.

“Will you carry us on your shoulders?” they asked in unison.

Emmanuel froze. His eyes grew wide, his sandwich just centimetres away from his mouth. Nathalie suspected that he was seriously contemplating whether he could grant the girls’ wish and still watch over Adrien. Fortunately for him, a waitress drew the girls away.

“You two should be playing in the kitchen,” she whispered. “Didn’t your _maman_ tell you not to disturb the guests even when going to the toilet?”

The two girls looked at each other, muscles tensed, before they gave up and burst out in laughter. They sprinted towards the waiters’ door, but their chanting about toilets could be heard long after they disappeared from the room.

“I’m sorry for their behaviour, Monsieur.” The waitress’ voice was so tiny she sounded like a child herself.

Emmanuel just grumbled and took a bite from his earlier forgotten sandwich.

“Those were Ella and Etta, my classmate Alya’s little sisters,” Adrien whispered to Nathalie. “They’re cute but… a bit too lively for a reception like this, I guess. But their father has the night shift in the zoo, Alya is attending a movie premiere with Nino, their other sister Nora is camping with her wrestler friends, Marinette is helping her parents with a special order at their bakery and Lila was invited to another party... So here they are with their mother who’s one of the chefs for tonight’s event!” he finished proudly. Nathalie half-wondered if he had been expecting to have to explain all that to someone during the party.

“I wonder if they can break Emmanuel...” muttered Nathalie. She glanced toward the door they had left through, half-expecting the girls to appear again.

“Is that even a question?” Adrien asked as he grabbed another rainbow-coloured pastry.

He stepped to the next set of pastries piled on the serving table with a mouth still full of treats. Emmanuel reflected his movement on the opposite side of the table, and soon, Nathalie was alone with the small croissants. She finally took one and grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter as she searched for a bridge that would take her across one of the indoor canals.

The summer château was beautiful, though true to its name it would be unsuited for habitation during any season other than summer. For example, the ballroom, which was situated on the ground floor, had no walls on the side of the room that looked to the garden, only glass up to the first floor. In some places, canals spiralled into the ballroom from the fountain outside, the water in them babbling softly and providing a soothing background sound to the chamber. The canals cut the ballroom into sections and banished the dance floor into a small corner.

On her way around the canals, Nathalie was greeted by the guests who recognised her, and some of the friendlier ones even stopped for a short exchange. Thankfully, everyone seemed to be more interested in Gabriel who, in a stroke of chance, had decided to grace the party with his presence.

Éloise Rosier, the chief editor of the _Paris_ fashion magazine, appeared soon after the boom of her voice announced her presence, along with the much more reserved, old Roland Bernède, the best journalist of her magazine. Éloise was one of the only people who could not care less about Nathalie’s emotionless face and managed to get closer to her. As soon as she saw “her dear Nathalie”, she plonked her glass down at “her morose friend’s” table.

“ _You’re_ reasonable, Nathalie. Please help me rid him of his _absurd_ idea and make him understand that there is no phantom.” Éloise sighed and gave a sideways glance to Monsieur Bernède.

“Phantom?” Nathalie furrowed her brows.

“I saw it near the fence,” Monsieur Bernède whispered, leaning closer to her and pointing at the windowed side of the room. “It just stood there. Then there was a flash of light and it was in the garden. Another flash and it was gone.”

“It was just your imagination, Roland,” Éloise sang. “This part of town is too modern to be harbouring _phantoms_.”

“It has nothing to do with _modern_.” Monsieur Bernède looked at Éloise as if she had said something insane. “There could be phantoms anywhere!”

“Or burglars,” Nathalie added, taking a sip of her champagne.

“Burglars, Mademoiselle?” Monsieur Bernède’s unchanged expression travelled to Nathalie. “On a night like this, with so many of us present?”

Nathalie opened her mouth to answer, but at that moment, the lights dulled. Audrey Bourgeois stepped into the ballroom, followed closely by two extravagantly dressed waitresses rolling an overly decorated tea cart between them. _The aged cheese Adrien was talking about must be under that big, metal cloche,_ Nathalie pondered.

Nathalie had no interest in the smell that would no doubt fill the air the moment the top was removed, but Éloise urged her to accompany her into the curious crowd, leaving the lucky Monsieur Bernède behind with the champagne.

By the time they reached the crowd around the cheese, the youngest Bourgeois and her father had already joined Audrey at the front. Their aquamarine clothes matched the decoration on the tea cart. Nathalie blinked in surprise as she focused on Chloé’s attire. Then, stretching her neck, her eyes searched the floor for Adrien to gauge his reaction. She easily spotted him next to Emmanuel, who towered over the other guests. Adrien looked baffled, but he seemed more interested in the cart than in the Bourgeois family. What had gotten into him?

“I should have guessed that Audrey would only appear in the most dramatic moment.” Nathalie startled upon hearing Gabriel’s voice next to her, where Éloise was just a moment ago. When did he get there? The last she checked, he had still been surrounded by people at the other side of the room.

“I could say the same about you, Monsieur Agreste.” Éloise grinned, turning her body to face him completely. “You almost disappeared from the face of the earth and now you appear at the greatest party of the year.” She playfully pointed her index finger at him. “I’d say that you’re up to something.”

Cold dread washed through Nathalie as Gabriel’s body visibly tensed. If he had constantly been questioned throughout the night about his long absence from the public eye, Éloise’s childish scolding could very well have been the coup de grâce. She shouldn’t have left him alone. She took the risk to gently and discreetly touch his back with her fingertips, just for a slight second. Gabriel let out a deep breath and his shoulders fell. Nathalie hadn’t been sure if he would cede to her warning, so when he did, she eased up as well.

“You may be right, Madame Rosier,” he said, and although Nathalie couldn’t see his face, she could very well imagine his cold smile. “Nathalie had the great idea that I should release a line of ball gowns…”

Nathalie saw Emmanuel’s movement from the corner of her eye. She instinctively started scanning the room for Adrien, and her worst fear came true when she could not spot his blond head in the crowd.

She hardly registered Éloise’s remark about a certain Monsieur Trigère’s opinion as she left her and Gabriel, making the good old excuse of needing to visit the bathroom.

It was never a problem if Adrien slipped away at small parties when only Emmanuel and she were around because, unlike Gabriel, they knew he would come back unharmed. But if Gabriel noticed now, he would be furious. She finally reached Emmanuel, whose expression mirrored the same thought. They left the ballroom and hurried into the entrance hall.

“You check the grounds and I’ll scour the floors above,” she whispered.

Emmanuel nodded and rushed to the entrance. As Nathalie ran up the stairs, her heart was beating in her throat. Her blood was pumping around her temples and she could hardly hold in the cough that occasionally still made itself known, even when she hadn’t used her miraculous ever since it was repaired.

Nathalie furrowed her brows as she stood facing a long hallway. _Why would Adrien even come to the first floor?_ He was probably on the grounds. It was a mindless mistake to run up here and she was wasting precious time. Gabriel would soon realise that they were all gone, would know what had happened, and would think that they were failures.

“He’s going to be fine.” Duusu had left the safety of Nathalie’s purse and was hovering in front of her face.

“I know,” Nathalie whispered, lowering her elbow from where it covered her mouth. “I’m more worried about what Gabriel will do if he realises that his son is missing.”

Duusu made a quick circle around Nathalie’s head.

“I think you’re overreacting, Mademoiselle Nathalie. Maybe Adrien went to the bathroom. Maybe he’s already back in the ballroom. Maybe Monsieur Gabriel didn’t notice that he was gone. Oh! But he’ll realise _you’re_ gone. Oh my–” Duusu had intended to put Nathalie at ease, but her chirruping achieved the opposite effect. Nathalie’s heart was drumming again.

“Get back into the purse.” Nathalie tried her best to sound normal, but the lump in her throat dulled her voice into a strict tone. If Duusu had minded, she didn’t show it. She simply flew back into her previous hiding place, too fast for the human eye she was only a blue line. Nathalie knew that she’d have to make up for her unintentional harshness. But first, she needed to make sure she’d even get the chance to talk to Duusu again.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was Emmanuel and her on one side, and Adrien on the other. They could do it. Emmanuel was already in the garden. If Adrien was there, he would find him. She had to keep a cool head and check every room just in case.

She opened her eyes and knocked on the first door. Her heart gradually calmed as she systematically entered the empty rooms. She only started to lose her composure again when she got near the end of the corridor with still no sound or sign from either Adrien or Emmanuel. She desperately knocked on the remaining doors and was surprised when someone answered one of them. She was startled by the huge, empty space behind the door, and the group of people that had gathered there. A sprightly elderly man with white wisps for hair was at the front of the group. He smiled at her gently.

“Did you come to get to know my children?” he asked, gesturing to some orchids to his side.

Nathalie blinked. “I… well…” she began, suddenly at a loss for words as she tried to comprehend the scene before her.

“We’ve already reached Collette.” The man pointed at a white orchid among many others. Casting a glance into the room, Nathalie realised then that the room was not completely empty, and numerous orchids were lined up from one end to the other. “But we can start from the beginning if you’d like.”

“No big deal,” said an older lady. “Maurice, the first one is my favourite anyway. He loves _Jane Eyre_.” She smiled at the strange man. “Monsieur Mollet spoils them so much.”

Nathalie was so confused that she only belatedly realised she had forgotten to apply her emotionless face. She opened her mouth to ask what they were doing there but, realising it was not any of her business, pressed her lips together instead. She then wanted to ask if they had seen Adrien but thought better of it and closed her mouth again. She had probably looked like a fish gasping for air.

The elderly man– _Monsieur Mollet_ –laughed before giving a reassuring look. “Take your time, Mademoiselle.”

Nathalie suddenly felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I…”

Shaking her head to clear it, she stepped into the room to scan the group in hopes of spotting Adrien’s blond head among them, but he was not there either.

“I’m looking for my own chil…” – _Merde_!–“I mean a blond child. Excuse me, but I have to go.”

She backed out of the room, feeling for the door’s handle behind her and refusing to take her eyes off the strange occupants.

“Good luck finding your ward.” Monsieur Mollet smiled.

Nathalie closed the door and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She hoped that nobody in that room knew her or Gabriel.

Her anxiety reached new levels when her phone buzzed. She swallowed hard, already forming the answers to Gabriel’s questions, but thankfully, it was Emmanuel’s exceptionally grumpy picture on her screen.

“Please tell me you’ve found him,” she rushed out in a breath.

His affirmative grumble eased all of her muscles and Nathalie sighed in relief. _Good._

She wasted no time in making her way back to the ballroom while forcing her usual, unreadable expression onto her face. Adrien was already there with Emmanuel standing very close to him. As she was advancing towards them, she saw Adrien’s eyes fall. He seemed strangely distressed, and as she got closer to him, she could clearly feel the unease radiating from him. Her heart clutched at that.

Did she look that threatening? Then again, Gabriel’s presence most definitely put her, and very likely Emmanuel, on edge. Still, as much as it hurt her, she had to discourage Adrien from escaping again.

“I’m sorry that I ran off, guys. It was very, very urgent,” Adrien explained.

Nathalie bit her lip. He was such a good child. But she could not console him. Not today.

“Emmanuel will keep a closer eye on you. I hope you understand.” She sighed. “Your father is here after all.” She hoped that the last bit would be enough to make Adrien realise just why they were watching him more carefully. She owed him that much.

Adrien forced a smile on his face and waved at someone behind her. She turned and saw Gabriel approach with Éloise close behind. He was angry. However, it was not fury towards incompetent employees, but frustration caused by the constant chatter from behind him. Gabriel desperately shut his eyes as Éloise finished her sentence in a high-pitched voice. He stopped next to Nathalie, but for the sake of good manners, extended his arm towards Éloise, inviting her to stand at his other side.

Audrey’s speech was over, but the ceremonial slicing of the cheese had just begun. Audrey and André were on opposite sides of the cart with Chloé at the front. The whole scene was so ridiculous, Nathalie had no idea why the Bourgeois family did it at all. Chloé’s deep purple dress did not even match André’s and Audrey’s aquamarine clothes. Nathalie blinked slowly in case she had been imagining things. But indeed, it was purple. When had she had time to change _again_?

Gabriel stepped closer to her. Nathalie looked at him questioningly, only to witness the slyly smiling Éloise closing the distance Gabriel had just made. The smell of cheese reached Nathalie’s nose. Adrien suddenly put down the orange juice he was holding and left again, but this time, Emmanuel went after him. Was he ill? Maybe she should follow them in case they needed help. Gabriel stepped closer to her again, their elbows were touching now. _Or_ she could stay and support Gabriel against a stranger’s siege attack on his personal space.

The Bourgeois family put down their knives. Someone lightly coughed. Gabriel stepped closer to her again–now his whole arm was behind hers. Nathalie shivered from the tickle of his suit. Éloise chuckled. Someone behind them let out a ‘tsk’ sound, probably because Gabriel kept blocking their view. Someone else whispered something. There were too many people here. They couldn’t see Gabriel’s unease, or her reaction. Gabriel took another step, but Nathalie was fast and rushed to stand in front of Éloise. She grabbed the other woman’s arm.

“Please Éloise, help me get to the drinks. I don’t feel...”

Her words were stuck in her throat when the music suddenly stopped, and her eyesight was gone. Some people screamed in surprise and countless shoes clicked against the floor. Nathalie was relieved that it was not her senses that gave out.

The electricity was cut, plunging the entire room into blackness.


	2. Chapter 2

Nathalie tried to wait for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Others were not so patient as they bumped into her while trying to move away from the middle of the room.

“Nathalie...” Gabriel’s whisper came from behind her, somewhere close to her ear judging from the tickle of hot air there– _don’t flinch_ –just before she felt his warm hands grab her bare shoulders. A wave of shivers ran through her body.

Sometimes, she really wondered about the effect he had on her. She had to steel herself better. If Gabriel had noticed her reaction, he did not comment.

She released her hold of the still unmoving Éloise and let Gabriel lead her in front of him, navigating her around the confused guests. He only released his hold of her once they had reached a clearing near a wall. Her own sharp exhale alerted her to the breath she had apparently been holding.

“What is it, Monsieur?” she asked as emotionlessly as she could manage.

“The electricity is out and Adrien is gone,” he stated.

“Emmanuel is with him,” she assured him carefully.

“He managed to slip away right under your noses when the lights were on,” he retorted. He had sounded calm, but Nathalie still felt as if she had just been slapped across the face. Gabriel must have felt her tension as he shortly added, “We’ll discuss it later.” He placed his hands on her shoulders again. “Have your eyes adjusted to the dark?”

She nodded before realising he would not be able to clearly see it in the dark. “Yes.”

“Please, find him. It’s concerning how strangely he has been acting. Help Emmanuel get him back quickly. I will stay here in case he returns.”

Nathalie’s eyebrows lowered. Gabriel’s face was surrounded by shadows, but she still looked deep into the shape of his glasses. To some extent, she could understand the father’s fear for his missing child, but her ego shouted for attention in her mind too. No matter how hard she tried to conceal her disappointment, Gabriel must have caught at least some glimpse of it because he continued in a lower voice.

“I know... it’s your day off and I’m asking a huge favour from you. But I will make it up to you somehow, I promise.” He had released her shoulders in favour of grasping her wrists, his touch light, his own actions _asking_.

She wanted to help him. If indeed, in the worst case scenario, Adrien was feeling ill, he should not be alone. It would be better if they were with him. It would put not only Gabriel but herself at ease as well.

“If that is your wish, Monsieur, then I’ll do that.”

“Thank you,” he breathed. She could’ve sworn she felt the light brush of his thumb over one wrist before he let go. She tried to ignore the residual tingle in her wrist. “Anything goes wrong, call me.”

“Of course, Monsieur.” Nathalie only stayed a moment longer before swiftly making her way.

“Don’t panic!” She heard André Bourgeois’ voice as she was making her way out of the ballroom. “Nobody should leave the room. Please sit down and keep each other occupied while the problem is being resolved.”

“Gah!” Audrey shouted. “And don’t blind me with your flashlights.”

“Yes, and don’t blind anyone with your flashlights,” Mayor Bourgeois repeated drily, before raising his voice again. “The electricians are already on their way. We just ask for your patience.”

Nathalie sighed and quietly left through the door while everyone was busy listening to the Mayor.

The corridor was much darker than the ballroom, with only the very faint moonlight from the entrance hall illuminating her destination. No matter how much she wanted to pull out her phone to switch on the flashlight, she refrained from doing so. She had a feeling that stealth would be the right approach to finding Adrien. As she made her way, she winced at the click of her heels that echoed down the passageway.

The blue line she knew so well escaped from her purse again.

“This is so exciting!” whispered Duusu, at least as softly as the exuberant kwami could manage.

Nathalie only hummed at her kwami’s excitement as she removed her shoes. Fortunately, her maroon, knee-length sheath dress was comfortable enough for soundless movement.

“Someone’s coming,” Duusu shout-whispered again before disappearing into Nathalie’s hair.

Now, she too could hear the small but quick footsteps coming from the entrance hall. Her hope that everyone would stay put had been crushed sooner than she expected. She looked around to find a place to hide, but the laughter of the chef’s little twins resounded in the corridor before she could so much as take a step. Fortunately, the two girls either didn’t notice her or paid her no mind. They cackled, their every step accompanied by a squishy noise, and Nathalie frowned at the wet footprints they left in their wake on the otherwise pristine floor. No sooner had they appeared than they disappeared behind another door. After the door was closed, Nathalie moved away from the wall and turned her attention to the sounds in her surroundings. She had to be more attentive. It was sheer luck that the twins hadn’t cared enough to look around.

She tiptoed to the end of the corridor, but the moment she reached the entrance hall, the door flew open and a slim figure entered with a light source in hand. He was only a silhouette, but Nathalie could recognise Adrien out from a hundred teenagers.

“ _Merde_ , _merde_ , _merde..._ ” he chanted as he ran down the hall, climbing the stairs before disappearing completely.

“I will have to discuss foul language with him,” she murmured.

“He seemed genuinely upset.” Duusu hovered above her shoulder. “Aren’t we supposed to follow him?”

“Oh, yes, we do.” Nathalie remembered her first priority. “Let’s save this night as fast as we can, shall we?”

Duusu shut her eyes and zig-zagged through the air. “Woohoo, adventure!” she shrieked. Nathalie placed her index finger in front of her mouth, and Duusu immediately stopped. “Sorry!”

Nathalie looked at the kwami. She always meant well, even if she could do with a little more awareness. And Nathalie couldn’t deny that her energy was infectious.

“You don’t have to go back into my purse, but we have to be careful,” she said finally.

“Woohoooo!” Duusu made countless circles around Nathalie’s head in only a heartbeat, instantly forgetting that she should stay silent.

They heard a loud shout, thankfully not from the direction Adrien had gone, but from the corridor they had just left behind.

“ _Someone,_ please _get them to the servants’ room!_ ” a woman screamed. If Nathalie were to take a guess, it was the cook just finding her children sneaking around.

Nathalie advanced towards the moonlit staircase before any of the waiters could shepherd the twins out from the kitchen and into the corridor she was in, Duusu flying alongside her. She rummaged in her purse until she felt her phone and, with a few expert swipes on its screen without even looking at it, she was already calling Emmanuel.

***

Gabriel could feel his muscles tensed up to the point they had started to ache. _Why_ was this woman so insistent on assailing him? What had he ever done to deserv– never mind.

Gabriel grimaced. His mind started to churn out plausible excuses to make to dismiss himself. He had already tried to escape on the premise that he had “spotted another designer I wish to speak with at the _other side of the room_ ” but Madame Rosier had taken it as an invitation and tagged along. The designer that they _did_ approach had seemed frantic when Gabriel had taken his discomfort out on the unsuspecting man.

When Madame Rosier finally peeled her attention away from him and to one of her panicked writers appearing out of the darkness instead, Gabriel almost let out a shocked breath. Now was his chance. He was not wasting it. Rosier’s incessant shouting about a phantom drummed in his ears even after he had gotten a safe distance away. By the time another scream joined her voice–and for a moment the story about the phantom and the servant’s room merged into one–Gabriel was already at the door.

He swiftly trapped the commotion inside the ballroom as he closed the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Éloise Rosier was one of the reasons Gabriel had always thought twice about attending parties, even when Emilie was still around. The woman was the successful editor of the _Paris_ fashion magazine for a reason, but she was too loud and overacted so clearly that Gabriel’s stomach would churn when it came to her. Unfortunately, what with Gabriel finally showing up in person and Emilie being absent, she had–for whatever godforsaken reason–gotten it into her head to get closer to him. And quite literally, it seemed, if the light brushes on his arm were anything to go by.

He looked up and tried to discern how far away the very end of the opposite wing could be. Maybe he could find Adrien and he could tell Nathalie to come back. It was her day off after all, and who knew where she was crawling now, instead of enjoying the evening no matter the darkness. Not that she had looked particularly relaxed earlier, as far as he could tell whenever his eyes found her in the ballroom. He hoped that she hadn’t lied when she said she was alright. While he hadn’t admitted to it, he had allowed Duusu to be with her so that there would at least be someone around to help her if anything happened. He held no hope that he could check on her while they were there.

As he approached the other wing of the château, he felt his muscles slowly easing up. He just needed to take a breath of fresh air, go back after Madame Rosier had calmed down and hopefully decided to pester someone else. He reached to open the window at the end of the corridor, but stopped when he saw a shadow run past it. But the figure did not have Adrien’s blond hair and was much smaller than Nathalie.

It seemed there were others who also had errands to run in the dark, all paying no mind to the Mayor’s request for everyone to stay together. Perhaps one of the younger guests had heard the nonsense about phantoms and felt bored enough to go looking for it–or even _pose_ as one.

Gabriel opened the window, letting the still warm air gush into the air-conditioned corridor. It was not as liberating as he had expected it to feel, but the fresh air did calm him a little. At least he could clear his head before someone else decided to show up–

As if on queue, the ballroom door at the other side of the house was thrown open and two silhouettes appeared. They were talking, and Gabriel could faintly make out their words once they were closer to the atrium between the two wings. Gabriel tried to quieten his breathing as he listened in from the shadows, watching as the light coming from one of the new entrant’s phones shone on the floor in front of them.

“Just because he disappeared doesn’t mean he’s up to something,” said a man with a tired voice.

“He just _finally_ decides to attend a party in person after a whole year of not appearing in public? Of course, not counting that one time when his son was turned into gold on the runway...” the other man replied. “If that doesn’t spell suspicious, you tell me what does. He’s up to something, I tell you, and _I’m_ going to expose it!”

Gabriel recognised the second voice. It was Gustave Trigère, the fashion designer who was always trying– _trying_ being the keyword–to one-up him. The man publicised his face more than his actual fashion line. Gabriel grimaced at the thought that such an opportunistic man was trying to catch him in a scandal. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, waiting for the two men to catch up, ready to confront them. He heard a small clatter and suddenly the light was gone.

“ _Merde_!” Trigère cursed. “Lacoste! Get your phone and use your flashlight!” A light soon appeared behind him from the other man.

_Ah, Lacoste, his latest executive assistant_. Gabriel sighed and could hardly wait until this clown of a man and his assistant caught up with him.

Trigère and Lacoste were already past the hall when the ballroom door opened again.

“They’re gone!” shouted Madame Rosier. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Suddenly tensing, Gabriel quickly pushed himself away from the wall. Trigère and Lacoste, he could handle. Rosier was too much. He tossed open the door next to him. Thankfully, the gallery he entered had many windows to choose from.

“Nooroo!” he called–voice catching on urgency–and the purple kwami immediately flew out from his suit jacket. Nooroo blinked at his master with worry. “Dark wings rise!” he finished in a rush.

Gabriel–now Hawkmoth–sensed the power rush over him, and the diverse feelings of the many people around the house intensified. He pushed everyone’s fear and irritation aside. When he had promised Nathalie that Hawkmoth would rest tonight, he hadn’t expected it to be so easy to keep. At least until now. Although, he could argue that among the many feelings of fear he could sense, his at that moment was the strongest. Desperate times called for desperate measures. So he opened one of the windows and left through it before Madame Rosier could find him.

***

Emmanuel wasn’t picking up his phone. And Nathalie had lost sight of Adrien, so she had tried searching through rooms again.

She cast a glance around the room she had now found herself in. It was unusually small when compared to the standard of the proud Bourgeois family. It must have originally been a guest room for children. As far as Nathalie could see in the dark, even the mess around the room resembled one that only a child could make. The ground was littered with open boxes of various sizes. Nathalie placed her shoes by the door and looked into the nearest one... Empty. She shook her head. Going by the bundle of colourful clothes that cluttered the bed, she surmised that the room must have been Chloé Bourgeois’ storage for the evening, at least judging from her magical changes of attire so far.

Nathalie was about to leave when she suddenly heard fumbling from the window. She quickly crouched down in the farther corner of the room, next to the nightstand. She could hardly see anything in the faint moonlight that the small window let in, but the room went completely dark when a figure appeared in it.

At that moment, Nathalie could feel her heart in her throat. The room was on the first floor! It crossed her mind then that the figure could be Monsieur Bernède’s phantom. She grasped the nightstand. It wasn’t like she was afraid of ghost stories. That would be absurd. She was only afraid of being spotted. The dark figure landed on the floor softly, but any air of burglar proficiency dissolved that same moment as she stumbled into one of the boxes on the floor.

“Uh!” groaned a young girl. “Never mind...” she whispered as she gently kicked the box aside. “I actually did it! Now all I have to do is find Adrien and give him the photo book I made...” The girl opened the door, taking a quick look around before stepping out. “...And then he’ll like me, and maybe ask me for a dance...”

One of Adrien’s fans. Of course they would try to infiltrate this place.

“...And then we’ll get married and we’ll have a pet hamster whose name will be…” The girl’s voice faded off as she disappeared farther down the corridor.

Nathalie stood up and smoothed out her clothes. She would definitely need to have a word with Gabriel about Adrien being the face of too many promotions. Shrieking fans were one thing, girls climbing through windows and talking to themselves was another. Nathalie was not sure if the trespasser’s ‘I actually did it!’ remark was referring to the successful break-in or the power cut, but neither option was promising.

Nathalie stepped out from the little room. Wherever Adrien had gone, he was surely out of reach by now. But if it had been the girl who had shut down the electricity, it should be easy to turn it back on. She slid her hand along the wall again and made her way towards the stairs in the darkness, but came to a halt when she heard Duusu speaking from her bun.

“Someone’s coming.”

Nathalie took a few steps back and, indeed, she spotted a light source coming from below, slowly becoming brighter as the person wielding it climbed the stairs.

“I’m sure he came this way,” a man mumbled.

“Is this really necessary?” another man asked. He didn’t even try to cover his tired annoyance. “My phone’s almost depleted and I would rather use the light to see if the kitchen staff watered the champagne.”

“Of course it’s necessary.” The other man was more openly irritated. “Agreste and his whole riffraff left the ballroom. They’re up to something.”

Nathalie tiptoed away from the staircase. Gabriel had left the ballroom. And the two men would start looking for him where she was. She needed to find an exit or a hiding place quickly if she wanted to avoid detection. And if there was no other way out… well, Adrien’s fan did not seem to have much trouble using the window.

She heard the footsteps on the carpet closing in.

“ _Merde_ , _merde_ , _merde_!” she hissed before slipping in through the first door her hand found. Window it was, then. She startled when she backtracked into something soft and very human-like, but before she could let out a screech, her voice was suppressed by a hand over her mouth, while another hand covered her eyes.

“... _Nathalie?_ ” a familiar voice asked and the bearer’s grip loosened.

She only caught the smell of leather gloves when he had completely withdrawn his hands.

“Monsieur?” she asked before turning to face her boss. Her boss, who was wearing the skin of a supervillain. But she had no reason to be afraid. She was long past the point when she could differentiate Gabriel from Hawkmoth.

“Are you alright?” he asked and sounded genuinely concerned.

“Yes,” she answered absent-mindedly while she took in the details of the room they were in.

Judging from the huge windows and the uneven, almost terrifying and sometimes spiky shapes underneath them, Nathalie realised that they were in the orchid room where she had met Monsieur Mollet and his small crowd earlier that evening. She felt her brows draw together.

“What are you doing here, Monsieur?” She frowned. “And why are you Hawkmoth?”

He looked her over with strict eyes, before raising a brow and giving her a puzzled look. “Did you somehow grow shorter?”

That same moment, Nathalie’s senses registered the cold bite of the polished floor beneath her bare feet. She rubbed her fingertips together, wanting to feel the shoes hanging from them, although she knew she wouldn’t.

She felt Duusu’s voice from her hair before she heard it. “Thaaat’s because she left–”

“–Please don’t tell me you were planning to akumatize someone.” Nathalie interrupted the kwami. What Gabriel didn’t know wouldn’t wake the sensitive fashion designer in him.

“ _Of course not._ ” Hawkmoth answered in a way that made Nathalie feel ashamed for even suggesting it. Okay, that wasn’t the best way to divert his attention from the lost shoes.

She opened her mouth to apologise, but a loud slam pulsing through the walls froze the words in her throat. The pained groan of a woman and the _‘Forgive me, Madame!’_ that followed quickly reminded Nathalie of why she had run into that room in the first place. Even Hawkmoth looked up from her as the sudden realisation hit him.

“I think someone’s looking for you, Monsieur,” Nathalie nodded towards the door. “Two men.”

“I am aware,” he grumbled, already scanning the room for another exit.

“The window.” She pointed towards the only escape route. Hawkmoth needed no further instruction; as soon as Nathalie had pushed open one of the windows, he scooped her up and jumped up onto the windowsill. The orchids rustled in disapproval from the movement and the soft gust of wind that blew in. It gave her the opportunity to focus on something other than the fast-paced beating of her heart, and to divert his attention from whatever feelings he could pick up from her.

“Watch out for the flowers,” she muttered.

“Watch out for falling out of my arms,” he retorted.

There was a breath of a moment as Hawkmoth stood still on the windowsill, her held tightly in his arms and the only witnesses to their tryst being the full moon and the stars gazing upon them. Then she tightened her grip around his neck, and in the blink of an eye, she felt in her stomach that they were falling. They landed without a sound, but the impact still pressed her nose into the crook of his neck. No matter the intrusive smell of the leather, she could not hold back a little smirk and tried very hard to focus on the poor orchid that had been in the way of either her leg or Hawkmoth’s elbow, landing next to them with a much louder thump than they did. Hawkmoth released his grip on her and she searched the ground with her feet.

“Who were those men?” Nathalie asked once they were both hidden in the bushes. She spared a glance at the window, half-expecting a head to appear and scan the garden. It was almost inevitable when their pursuers would reach the room and find the open window.

“Gustave Trigère, one of my self-appointed competitors. The other was his henchman, Michel Lacoste.” She could hear the grimace in Hawkmoth’s voice. “They want to find dirt on me.”

Nathalie bit back a snort. Sneaking away from the crowd to transform into Hawkmoth was the blackest dirt anyone could find.

“Did you find any trace of Adrien?” Hawkmoth asked in a more business-like manner.

“I saw him running up to the first floor. I followed him but he vanished like he was never there.” Nathalie solemnly shook her head, then grabbed the sleeve of Hawkmoth’s suit and looked into his eyes. “He seemed frightened. I don’t know how he would react if he were to spot Hawkmoth.”

Hawkmoth only hummed. The calmness was unusual from Gabriel, and one would think it unimaginable from Hawkmoth. But she knew that he was thinking about what to do about the distressed Adrien who clearly didn’t want to be found.

“What are you going to do?” she broke the silence. “I think Lacoste’s phone was almost out of battery. I don’t know if they will continue their pursuit after that.”

“Oh, they will. Whenever another fashion designer becomes the centre of gossip, Trigère will be there. He is more set on the celebrity life than actually designing. It seems that tonight he has picked me as his target, and wants to get a glimpse of my... _misbehaviour_ ,” Hawkmoth spat the last word.

He removed his gaze from the window and looked into Nathalie’s eyes. His strict expression softened just a little.

“What will _you_ do?” he asked.

That was a good question. Her greatest setback was the darkness, and if anything had happened to Emmanuel, she would bet that the lack of light was the reason for it.

“I’m wondering if I could check the electric box,” she announced her new idea. “If I could fix the problem, then it would be easier to find Adrien. He must be hiding. Otherwise, I would have found him upstairs.”

“A logical idea.” Hawkmoth nodded. “You should search for a little hut near the house’s entrance.”

She raised an eyebrow. Hawkmoth smiled ever so slightly and shrugged.

“Audrey. She hated the idea of the gardener getting mud into her house, so she had that built separately.”

“I see.”

Hawkmoth and Nathalie stayed silent a few more moments, alert for any signs of movement while no doubt planning their next steps. And in taking in their surroundings, Nathalie could not ignore their current positions: both crouched down in the dirt, hidden away behind low bushes while looking out for any threats, her in a dress meant for fancy banquets instead of sneaking and her companion decked in leather with a full head mask. And oddly enough, she found the situation perfectly normal.

Had this really become her life? Apparently so, if she could find herself feeling wonderfully serene.

Nathalie tried to force back a smile. But her feeling of contentment was gone that same instant and replaced by a sense of urgency that overtook her thoughts. She was sitting in a bush and casually chatting with Paris’ feared supervillain. It might very well have been a daily routine for her but a definite alarm bell to any other soul that might catch them. While her traitorous heart had allowed her to enjoy the intimacy of it all, now was not the time.

She touched a hand to Hawkmoth’s shoulder. As he turned to her, she could see his eyebrows rising under his mask. He looked surprised, but the question of why she would have wanted to get his attention in that manner was also clear in his eyes.

Nathalie really had no answer for that.

“We need to go,” she finally said. “If I may offer a piece of advice, go back to the ballroom. If Trigère and Lacoste go there first and find you there, maybe they’ll stay put.”

“That would be sensible.” He nodded, slowly as if just coming out of a trance.

Nathalie looked up to the orchid room’s window. It was impossible for the two men not to have reached the room by that point. But no matter what Gabriel’s competition thought or did, she couldn’t stay in the relative safety of the bush. She stood up and swept the soil from her legs.

“Don’t forget to detransform,” she whispered, and the bush rustled in agreement.


	3. Chapter 3

When Nathalie was a safe distance away from the bush Hawkmoth was still hiding in, she heard the shout-whisper she already expected.

“Oooooh, Mademoiselle…”

“Don’t say it,” Nathalie interrupted.

“But why not?” Duusu’s voice was a few octaves higher than usual. She left Nathalie’s hair and flew in front of her, prompting Nathalie to stop. “It was _so_ romantic!” The kwami put her tiny palms together and overdramatically rubbed her cheek to them. “And that you left your shoes in that room? It’s perfect! Maybe he’ll help you put them on when you get them back...”

“I don’t need help putting on my shoes.” Nathalie calmly raised one eyebrow, hoping she could pacify the kwami with fake indifference.

“...Just like in the fairy tales!” Duusu simply continued as if Nathalie had not said a word. The kwami of Emotion was indeed a dreamer, but at least she considered her wielder’s argument to be final and unquestionable, so she flew back into Nathalie’s hair.

The garden was new territory, but at least the moonlight allowed her to see better, and the shadows enveloping the château’s walls created numerous hiding places. It was much easier to navigate. And after all the rebellious skulking she’d already come across that night, she was surprised no one had thought to go there. For a moment, the only sound was from the wind rustling through the trees and the array of gardenias that adorned the place.

Of course, the calmness didn’t last long. Just when she reached one corner of the château, a shriek pierced the air. Nathalie stilled in her steps. _What on earth…?_ That same instant, the chef’s twins appeared at the corner of the house and Nathalie ducked behind the closest bush. Her eyes narrowed as they peered through the leaves.

One twin jumped and twirled mid-air, laughing as the white fabric she was hugging to herself followed and flowed around her. Her sister was trying to hold back her own laughter, though her rocking shoulders shook the big plastic flask in her hand. They _must_ have heard the horrifying shriek, Nathalie thought. Yet they seemed unfazed and were even _chuckling._ Whatever had happened, Nathalie surmised, they were the culprits. A part of her urged her to reprimand the misbehaving children. But the more logic-driven part said this would only grant her two loud ducklings to shake off. Nathalie pinched the bridge of her nose. She was heading in the direction of the scream anyway. If anyone needed help, she would find out soon enough.

Once the girls had disappeared behind a corner, Nathalie stepped out from her hiding place. Without the leaves in her face, she easily spotted the hut Hawkmoth had mentioned off to the side. Fishing out her phone, she tried calling Emmanuel again, hoping he would answer this time.

No such luck.

She sighed, put her phone away and crossed the garden, the still lukewarm stone pavement reminding her that she was still barefoot. As she was nearing the hut, a cool breeze brushed past her ear. Nathalie paused in her steps. With an exaggerated slowness, she turned her head, before staring down a particular bush to her side.

It only took a moment for said bush to shiver and let out a high-pitched squeal.

Just as quickly, a shadow emerged and ran in the direction Nathalie had come from, pigtails flying in the wind.

If Nathalie were to guess, it was the same person whose scream she heard minutes ago. If she kept to this screaming, Monsieur Bernéde would surely gain an audience for his ghost stories.

Turning back to the hut’s door, Nathalie grabbed its handle. _Everything will be so much better once the lights return._ She would find out what happened to Adrien and Emmanuel, they would all return to the ballroom, she would finally be able to enjoy the rest of the banquet with peace of mind... She pushed the handle down and pulled the door.

But her arm experienced unexpected resistance.

Nathalie closed her eyes and let her frustration seep out from her chest, into her head. “It’s locked,” she hissed.

Her statement was enough for Duusu to risk flying out of her hiding place.

“Why? What does that mean?”

“It can mean many things,” Nathalie muttered as she pressed her forehead against the warm metal door. Her phone buzzed, but she didn’t want to answer it like this. “The power was either not manually shut down, or someone with a key did it. _Or_ someone with a key has already come round to check the switch after the blackout and locked the door behind them. Which would also mean that I’m not enough to fix it. And that’s only a few options out of many.”

“Don’t be sad, Mademoiselle Nathalie! We can still save your evening off. I can try to open the door for you, if you’ll let me!” Duusu chirruped.

Nathalie stood back and nodded. “You can give it a try.”

After a “woohoo”, Duusu phased through the door. The lock clicked, and Nathalie heard Duusu’s muffled shouted from the door, or wherever she was.

“ _Can you open it_?”

Nathalie pushed down the handle, but the door did not budge. Another click followed.

“ _And now_?”

The door was still shut tight.

“ _Aaand how about now?_ ”

After a few more tries, Duusu phased through the door again. She seemed unusually sorrowful, with her crest drooped down the back of her head. Nathalie slowly stretched her arm to touch the kwami. She had never seen the always upbeat Duusu so devastated.

“I’m sorry, Mademoiselle Nathalie. I don’t know how these locks work.”

“Don’t be sad.” Nathalie opened her palm and let Duusu sit on it. “You can practice on the doors at home.”

That seemed to cheer her up. Nathalie fought the urge to pat the kwami’s head and that almost instinctive movement flared up her mind. This was not how she expected her night to go. But Duusu wasn’t complaining. More precisely, she seemed to be having more fun than Nathalie had ever seen her. She was only sad because Nathalie felt miserable. Nathalie raised Duusu to her bun with renewed determination.

“You wanted adventure, right? We’ll find Gabriel and tell him what we know. He may have something up his sleeve.”

Nathalie stayed hidden near the fence as she passed the windows of the ballroom, keeping her steps light and quick. She snuck past some tall hedges and one of the now still water canals around it, her mind vaguely registering the scent of strawberries in the air. Thankfully, the entrance of the chateau was not far away.

She didn’t meet a soul until she entered the ballroom. With a calm demeanour pulled over her face, Nathalie braced herself for the pungent smell of the cheese, expecting it to soon override the rather pleasant strawberry scent still lingering in her senses. But surprisingly, the air was perfectly fresh. She didn’t have a chance to give it more thought, as her attention was immediately drawn to a crystal shine in the middle of the room.

“Of course I am thinking fondly of them, Adrikins,” Chloé said as she spun. The crystals on her white dress scattered the moonlight in the colours of the rainbow. “I already sent them pictures on Instagram.”

Nathalie could never imagine that Chloé would enjoy the darkness this much, especially since her quest for the evening seemed to be to perform for a one-model fashion show. And that she had a dress that worked the best in moonlight was posing some serious questions, all of them involving the electric box.

“That’s… nice.” Adrien’s answer was uncertain.

Nathalie felt some tension leaving her. Adrien had returned, at least, making Nathalie’s task easier, but Emmanuel was still not in Adrien’s vicinity. If he had been there, he would have answered his phone.

She spotted Gabriel talking with two men near the windows. Even in the faint moonlight, Nathalie could see that Gabriel was not completely immersed in the conversation, constantly looking sideways to check on Adrien. When he saw Nathalie, he turned to his companions with cold professionalism.

“It was nice speaking with you, Monsieur Trigère and Monsieur Lacoste. But if you’ll excuse me, my executive assistant needs to report on her conversation with an American client.” His voice was as cold as his expression.

Both men looked at her now. The smaller, but more elegant man, who Nathalie now recognised to be Gustave Trigère thanks to the fashion magazines, nodded towards her.

“Of course,” he said and he motioned to Lacoste to follow him.

When they were out of hearing range, Gabriel turned to Nathalie. His expression did not change.

“You didn’t answer your phone,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone, but his voice sounded calmer than he looked.

There was no way to argue with that. She had completely forgotten to check who had called her after composing herself outside the hut earlier.

“I was… preoccupied,” she said slowly, choosing her words carefully. “The door to the basement is locked,” she whispered and looked at Adrien. “But I see at least one half of the problem is solved.”

“He was already here when I got back,” Gabriel said, also looking at his son. “I called to let you know.” He added almost as an afterthought, “Apparently, the cheese has gone missing.”

“What _?_ ” Nathalie blinked. She was not expecting to hear Gabriel’s last statement.

“Both Audrey and André were making a fuss about it just earlier.” Gabriel waved his hand, his gaze returning to his son. “But no matter. That is none of our concern.”

Nathalie pondered that for a moment. Was it really not their concern? Adrien had seemed to have taken a strong interest in the aged cheese a while ago and he had been acting strangely the whole night. But he would never steal… She shook her head. “Did you manage to reach Emmanuel?” she asked instead, following Gabriel’s gaze. As far as she could see in the dark, Adrien felt extremely uncomfortable. As if he urgently needed to head off somewhere again. No. That was absurd. There was no way he had anything to do with that smelly cheese. There must be something else going on.

“I’ve tried several times. He didn’t answer.” Gabriel said. “Adrien claims that he doesn’t know what happened to him and has been looking for him.”

She could say that was probably the reason behind Adrien’s distress, but Nathalie had the uncanny feeling that there was more to it.

“Is Adrien alright? Did he imply that he feels ill?” The words rushed out as Nathalie felt a nagging urge to go to her young charge.

She felt a light touch on her shoulder. She raised her eyes up to her companion, and met one of his rare, warm smiles.

“Calm down, Nathalie. He’s fine. But if you don’t believe me, you can always ask him.”

She looked at Adrien again. It was obvious that she would have her doubts when it came to Gabriel’s perception of the people he deliberately chose not to examine emphatically. And yes, she could ask Adrien, but she would not. She knew that he was not fully honest with his father, and she knew he would not be with her as well. She would help where she was needed.

“Let’s focus on Emmanuel for now,” she said instead and touched Gabriel’s upper arm, before stepping next to him.

Gabriel’s interest was piqued. “You have a plan?”

Nathalie scanned the room before her eyes landed on Mayor Bourgeois, speaking emphatically with his wife. “Do you think he has the keys?” she asked.

Gabriel followed her line of sight. “There is a chance. He returned to the ballroom the same time I did, so he could’ve locked the hut right before you arrived.” She nodded and he looked at her with amusement. “Are you planning to _take_ them?”

“It’s concerning that Emmanuel has completely disappeared,” she explained. “We need the light.”

One corner of Gabriel’s lips curled in a half-smirk as he examined her. “Alright, I will help you. While we’re at it, there is also another matter we need to take care of before the electricity returns.”

“There is?” Nathalie tried very hard not to sound disappointed.

Gabriel hummed and pointed down to the ground while keeping his eyes on her. She followed his index finger and took in her bare feet.

“Oh, that,” she muttered.

“Yes, _that_ ,” he said. “Oh, what will people _think_ of the _Gabriel_ fashion line if they were to see you walking around like that?” he teased. And despite the stress she was feeling, a small smile briefly formed on Nathalie’s lips.

“The shoes are in a guest room,” she began as she rubbed her forehead. “I forgot to grab them after I hid from one of Adrien’s fans.”

He nodded and placed one hand on her back, motioning that they could go to the Bourgeois couple once she was ready.

The Mayor and Audrey were sitting at the other end of the room, watching their daughter run around the ballroom in her Swarovski-adorned dress.

“...all this talk about phantoms. Anyway, I’ve asked the cooks to prepare the extra batch of cheese– Monsieur Agreste!” The Mayor jumped up when he saw them approach. “What a surprise to see you here.” He was either a good actor–which would also not be a surprise especially in his line of work–or he had genuinely not expected Gabriel to actually turn up.

Audrey did not follow her husband’s example. Instead, she looked out of the windows.

“Thank you for inviting me, Monsieur Bourgeois. I must admit it’s been quite eventful, what with the electric failure, and the nonsense about phantoms. But I came here because, during Audrey’s speech, I couldn’t help but look at the suit you’re wearing,” Gabriel said.

“Oh, well...” The Mayor suddenly seemed like he would rather be somewhere else. “It’s from a British designer. I didn’t intend it to be an offence. In fact, quite the opposite! There are so many designers here tonight, I didn’t want to honour one and insult all the others.”

“So you took the neutral approach.” Gabriel nodded. “Understandable.”

The Mayor fidgeted with his hands. Audrey let out an irritated hum.

“But I didn’t come here to call you to account, Monsieur. Actually, the fabric’s pattern seemed unusual from a distance. Would you allow me to take a closer look at it?” He extended his arm, indicating that he wanted the Mayor to hand it over.

“Why, of course.” The Mayor shrugged off his jacket and handed it over to Gabriel. Gabriel leaned closer to it and narrowed his eyes. He even led one thumb over the material. Nathalie could hardly hold back her smile as a warmness spread in her heart. She knew this movement. He may have intended it as an act, but he always did this whenever he was genuinely intrigued by the fabric he was examining.

“Strange...” he murmured. “Royal patterns on aquamarine textile.”

With a sudden movement, he handed the piece to Nathalie.

“Nathalie, memorise it.” His voice was sharp, and he didn’t take his eyes off the Mayor. Nathalie could swear she saw Audrey smirk as the latter listened to the exchange, though her eyes were cast onto the dark garden outside. That previous incident with the _second_ row seat for _the great Audrey Bourgeois_ must have scratched her ego more deeply than Nathalie had anticipated. Though, despite the fact that she had just been helping Gabriel intensify Audrey’s anger to akumatize her into Style Queen, it still felt shamelessly good that Nathalie’s words had left such a mark on this despicable woman. And the latter clearly did not forget it. Nathalie held back her own smirk. She returned her gaze to the Mayor’s suit, took it from Gabriel and leaned closer to it, exactly like he had done.

“You said that he’s British?” asked Gabriel, diverting the Mayor’s attention.

“Yes, a young and promising man, according to Audrey.”

Nathalie knew what this whole farce was for. She slowly slipped her hand into the suit’s pocket. _Damn it, wrong one!_

“Promising, yes.” Audrey shot up from her seat the moment Nathalie’s hand found the other pocket. She looked up at Audrey, readying an explanation for what her hand was doing in the Mayor’s pocket. However, Audrey was more invested in the topic of conversation and didn’t seem to notice her actions. “But _she_ is a woman,” she added smugly. “High time for a woman to join the fight for the fashion throne again, don’t you think?”

Nathalie’s fingers touched the cold keys. She very slowly squeezed the chain in her palm, pulled it out and hid it behind her back. Thankfully, it was one half of her signature poses, according to Adrien at least. Her purse slid down her arm, but she managed to stop it with her balled fist before it could fall to the ground. The keys did not jingle, and she even managed to elegantly hand the jacket back to the Mayor. Gabriel looked at her.

“Well?” he asked.

“Brave, Monsieur,” she said with a flat voice. “I will initiate a search for small patterns on Monday, if you wish.” The Mayor took the piece of clothing and Nathalie placed her other hand behind her back to complete her “signature” stance.

“Do so.” Gabriel nodded.

“Instead of asking your secretary what her opinion on fashion is, shouldn’t you be asking her why she forgot to put shoes on?” Audrey shot, making a show of looking at her nails disinterestedly. It suddenly took way too much effort for Nathalie to keep her composure.

“Audrey, dear…” the Mayor pleaded.

“I already did,” Gabriel answered. “Right after the lights went out, Nathalie had tripped and fallen into one of the canals. Luckily, she is unharmed, and her shoes are drying right now.”

“We’ll get one of our staff to bring you another pair, Mademoiselle,” the Mayor offered, turning to Nathalie. She nodded.

“We will be by the entrance of the ballroom,” Gabriel said and turned away from the Bourgeois couple. Nathalie followed him.

“Do you have it?” he asked when they were a safe distance away.

“Yes.” She opened her palm to reveal their prize.

“Amazing job.” He smirked and touched her back, and Nathalie tried her best not to shudder. It was all she could do to not let her feelings slip. She instead turned her attention to how he tried to lead her out from the ballroom without going near anyone.

“Adrikins?” Chloé called, and they instantly looked in the girl’s direction again. “Where did he go?”

“I think we now have another reason to get the lights on.” He looked at her again. “Do what you planned. I will follow shortly with your shoes.”

“They’re in a room near where I ran into you earlier. The one with the boxes,” she quickly supplied.

He nodded as she stepped out into the corridor.


	4. Chapter 4

Nathalie looked around and, after making sure no one was watching, headed towards the entrance hall. Judging from the night’s events so far, she was not surprised when she found the main door slightly ajar. The smell of tobacco crawled into the atrium.

“Are you feeling better now?” a man asked, and Nathalie immediately connected the voice to the bored Lacoste.

“Yes, dear, thank you,” Éloise’s answered. “The bleeding’s stopped and a little liquid make up did the rest. Your boss sure knows how to tear out doors.”

“He can be impulsive. But he regrets it very much.”

“I know, I know. He already told it to me like ten times.” Then, she lowered her voice so much that Nathalie could barely hear her. “You were looking for Gabriel earlier. Did you manage to find him?”

“Yes. He’s in the ballroom, if you’re interested.”

“Why, yes, I very much am.” She chuckled coyly before her voice returned to a normal volume. “Thank you, Monsieur Lacoste.” 

The main door opened wide then. Nathalie quickly backtracked into the corridor, opened the first door and waited until the sound of the high heels disappeared in the direction of the ballroom.

“Why are we hiding?” Duusu whispered from her bun.

“We don’t have time to answer questions.” Nathalie sighed. “I’m up for the adventure, but I want my evening off too.”

The moment she pushed the door, ready to leave, someone stormed out from the ballroom. Nathalie hardly had time to draw into the room again.

“ _Merde_ , _merde_ , _merde_!” the man chanted the phrase that had become the night’s code. “She will just not desist! When had she come in?”

“It’s Monsieur Gabriel,” Duusu whispered. Nathalie had recognised his voice too. Unfortunately, he was already past their door. “It’s getting exciting again!” Duusu chuckled and Nathalie’s bun started to live its own, frantic life. “You could go after him and leave through the window again. That was nice. Or… say, Mademoiselle Nathalie! Does the staff have its own entrance into the house? Like in the old days?”

Nathalie smiled. Duusu was right, there should be a back entrance. It was a Bourgeois residence after all. “That’s a very good idea, Duusu. Thank you.”

Duusu chuckled again. She was enjoying this a little bit too much, but Nathalie couldn’t blame her. She would too, if her quest to save Emmanuel hadn’t somehow taken a turn and become a race against Gabriel’s competition. Whatever was going on between Gabriel, Trigère, and Éloise, her boss’ panicked departure and unusual swearing didn’t exactly assure anyone. But with Duusu’s idea, she may be able to reach the basement unnoticed, _and_ without Hawkmoth’s help. So, she cautiously left her hiding place and went back to the ballroom’s door.

She shuddered when, upon entering, Éloise’s shriek pierced through her ears.

“Ah, Nathalie! Where were you?”

Éloise’s expression was odd, as if talking was a pain. Nathalie examined the editor’s nose closer. It seemed swollen, but she did a really good job hiding it under the liquid make-up. If Nathalie hadn’t heard her earlier conversation with Lacoste, she wouldn’t have been able to spot the difference.

“I was in the bathroom,” Nathalie said and attempted to close the door. To her surprise, Éloise’s arms shot out to hold the door open. She did not break eye contact even for a second.

“Alright, dear, have fun!” she sang in a false tune of delight and left in a hurry.

If she had gone to alert Lacoste and Trigère, then Nathalie had no intention of waiting for them. She swiftly manoeuvred between the guests, muttering excuses to them.

“You shouldn’t be coming in here, Madame!” cried a waitress who appeared at the kitchen door exactly when Nathalie pulled it open.

“It’s an emergency,” Nathalie said, slipping past her and rushing through before the waitress could make a scene.

By the time she left through the door on the other side of the kitchen, her heart was pounding from running, and from the fear that Lacoste and Trigère would either catch up to her, or be waiting for her outside. The service door was at the end of the small corridor. Nathalie sped up her pace so that whoever was out there would have less time to catch her. Or they would collide. She sprinted through the doorway and felt the gravel cutting into her feet. But she didn’t stop. She heard a man shouting from behind her, then a huge smack followed, and the rocks loudly rattled. _He fell!_

She kept running, only vaguely registering the grunts of the man as he lifted his face off the ground. If she could reach the trees in time, then their shadows might help her disappear momentarily. He would still find her eventually if she couldn’t come up with something.

The gravel behind her rustled again, indicating that the man was already on his feet again and _running_ after her.

Slipping between the trees, Nathalie pressed her back to the one she was closest to. She was not far enough from the door. _Merde!_ He would find her. And when he did, he would interrogate her. The Mayor would realise that his pocket didn’t weigh as much as it did before and they would discover the keys on her, and Gabriel would be ruined by the assumption that he hired and _helped_ thieves.

The footsteps were fast approaching. He was just in front of the tree she used for hiding, she knew. She held her breath–

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING NEAR MY TREES?”

For a heartbeat, Nathalie thought that someone else had spotted her. But the soft steps in the grass came to a halt and turned, the owner no doubt trying to determine who was shouting a little farther away.

“YOU! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”

Nathalie recognised the voice. It was Monsieur Mollet, the orchids’ “father”. Nathalie trembled under the blasting anger of that seemingly meek man. “Sneaking around the house! Opening the windows on my orchids and throwing them to the ground–”

“Get back in, Charles!” Another voice joined Mollet’s shouting. “It’s dangerous, there’s a–”

A scream interrupted the commotion. Nathalie recognised it to be the same one she had heard after she had parted with Hawkmoth. The scream was accompanied by a white figure falling down a tree farther away from Nathalie.

“PHANTOM!” There was another blast of the gravel, Trigère’s voice muttered a “ _Mon Dieu_ ” dangerously close to Nathalie, and his quick steps retreated from the grass, back to the gravel.

Nathalie cautiously turned around and took a peek from the safety of the tree. Trigère and Mollet were crouching next to the unconscious Monsieur Bernède. The “phantom” took her chance and ran away, the white dress under her arm waving after her.

Nathalie followed her example, but ran the opposite direction.

Just before turning a corner, she chanced a glimpse back. No one was following her. She stopped running and scanned the garden in front of her. For now, Lacoste remained the only hunter.

***

Gabriel hoped that Madame Rosier–or anyone else for that matter–had not noticed his absence from the ballroom. It would at least make things a lot easier as he scoured the rooms on the first floor, searching for the one holding Nathalie’s shoes, and holding onto whatever luck he might have had that he would not be interrupted.

He wasn’t a very lucky man. He felt his suit jacket move around a little, and Nooroo soon popped his little head out from its rim.

“ _Maître_! I feel a familiar irritation and disappointment.”

“Not now, Nooroo,” he snapped at the purple kwami as he felt his own irritation grow. He had felt it too, of course, but he had tried to suppress it like all the other emotions. However, as Nooroo brought it to the forefront of his thoughts, he suddenly couldn’t help a nagging feeling that arose. Could it have been Nathalie? Had she failed? That was impossible. Or was it Adrien who was in trouble? Gabriel always tried his best not to pry into their feelings, but the unrestrained ones still seeped through sometimes. Following this line of thought, he turned his eyes to the kwami.

Nooroo took it as his queue to continue. “Irritation of being caught. And disappointment in not being able to complete a duty.” Gabriel felt his heart beating in his throat as Nooroo’s words fitted his fears terribly well.

“Go and see what happened,” he ordered. At the sight of the kwami’s widening eyes he added, “Make sure no one sees you. And when you’re done, come back _immediately_.”

At this, Nooroo shot out of Gabriel’s suit jacket and disappeared through the ground.

Gabriel continued with his own task and moved to the next door. _Finally!_ The boxes were here. He quickly looked around, and found the shoes sitting next to the door. Just as he moved to pick them up, he heard the click-clack of high heels from the corridor outside. It was Madame Rosier. He just knew it.

Thankfully, Nooroo chose that moment to enter the room through the ground again, flying up to his side. “It’s your son’s bodyguard, _Maître_ –”

“–Alright, Nooroo.” He hardly registered Nooroo’s words as he quickly grabbed Nathalie’s shoes, keenly aware of the footsteps fast approaching. “Dark wings rise!”

The small room’s window was already open and inviting. Hawkmoth wasted no time and jumped out, aiming for the tree near the window. Upon landing on the root of a branch that could support his weight, he took another leap, up onto the château’s roof. He had only taken a few swift steps before a sudden wave of fear, pain and dread hit him in spades. It was so sudden and powerful that he almost slipped on the pent-roof and landed in the gutter with one foot.

_Nathalie._

He was afraid that her illness would return even after her miraculous had been repaired. He pinched Nathalie’s shoes between his fingers more tightly and picked up his pace. _Damn that peacock brooch!_

As Hawkmoth reached the other end of the château, he spotted a lone figure moving through the garden in measured steps. His racing heart slowed. It was her. She seemed healthy and unharmed. And soon, she would have her shoes. He scanned the garden from his high vantage point. _Those tall hedges encompassing that big clearing should suffice._ He took another quick glance around to ensure he wouldn’t be spotted by anyone else, before then jumping down from the roof, making sure that she would see him as he found the small path between the leaves.

***

Nathalie saw Hawkmoth land a few metres in front of her and disappear between the neatly cut hedges. Nathalie’s heart was already pounding from the panic and the running, and now she could add fear to her list. There was only one explanation for why Gabriel would be transformed, and he had _sworn_ that he wouldn’t do it. She passed the bridge above one of the canals and followed him into the area enclosed by the hedges.

“Monsieur?” she ventured.

“I’m here,” Hawkmoth’s magically lowered voice replied. She took his answer as an invitation, so she stepped into the retreat.

The enclosure within was large and round, and a Renaissance style sculpture depicting a young girl stood marking its centre. Small stone benches were scattered around the hedge walls which were adorned by flora. Nathalie could again smell strawberries, but she couldn’t pinpoint the source. The area could almost be a romantic hideout, if it were something the Bourgeois family was good at, and if the statue did not resemble a very young Chloé so much. But it was peaceful. And the moonlight that shone from the night sky above seemed to cast the space in an almost ethereal glow.

Hawkmoth was standing in front of the statue, absently staring at it, but his eyes moved to watch her instead as she stepped into the clearing.

“Are you alright?” he asked, barely audible.

Nathalie paused for the briefest moment at his query, before nodding in response. “I am.”

Though she had tried not to voice her mild puzzlement, Hawkmoth obviously picked up on something as he answered her unspoken question.

“I felt the mixture of pain, fear and panic near you,” he said, and the concern etched on his masked face was oddly a sight that she was growing familiar with. “What happened?”

Nathalie flung herself down onto the nearest stone bench. With the adrenaline tapering off, the weariness from the night’s events finally seemed to make itself known. Hawkmoth took her shoes from where he had placed them at the base of the statue and walked over to her. Silently placing the shoes in front of her, he gave her a once-over as he stood, before breathing out a sigh and sitting down next to her.

“I don’t know,” she finally said. She had leaned forward, one elbow rested on her thigh, her fingers rubbing her temple. “I heard that Trigère and Lacoste were looking for me. I tried to avoid them but Trigère was waiting for me. So I ran. Like a criminal I ran, and don’t ask me why because I don’t know. Instead of explaining myself, or helping Bernède who had fainted, I took the opportunity to _run_.” She turned her head to look at him. Hawkmoth was quietly watching her as she spoke. “I think that I just ruined your image.”

“Well, you clearly haven’t been listening to the news. Or the rumours.”

She smiled slightly at that, and he touched her shoulder reassuringly. Of course he would jump at the chance to make a joke about his identities. He was Hawkmoth after all. The master of bad puns and lazy jokes. Which reminded her that he had managed to distract her from common sense and the feeling of urgency.

“You should transform back,” she said quietly. “And I should get going,” she added.

He calmly examined her face, then closed his eyes. She knew exactly when to look away to avoid the blinding light of his detransformation, and so she looked at her shoes to slip into them.

When she glanced at the man sitting next to her again, it was Gabriel meeting her gaze. She nodded at him. She couldn’t comprehend why he had transformed in the first place, and she was in no position to ask, but she knew that he didn’t intend to akumatize anyone. He had plenty of opportunities already: Mollet’s anger, Bernède’s fear, Trigère’s frustration, and yet he didn’t. And she was grateful for that.

“Thank you for retrieving my shoes, Monsieur.” She stood up from the bench and turned to him. “You might want to head back to the ballroom soon. Madame Rosier was looking for you earlier.”

A grimace formed on Gabriel’s face at the name and Nathalie felt a tug in her chest.

“At least to avoid further suspicion,” she reasoned. “She would realise if you’re gone from the ballroom too long.”

He sighed as he looked down, before giving a begrudging nod. “You’re right, of course.”

“And I will try not to draw any further scandal to your name,” she promised.

At this, Gabriel looked back to her with furrowed brows. But when he said no more, Nathalie took it as her queue to leave. As she walked towards the entrance to their little hideout, she tried to shake off the remnant feelings of failure still clinging to her skin. That didn’t matter. She needed to focus on her task, to find Adrien and Emmanuel.

The sudden sound of his voice stopped her.

“Do you want to hear a story, Nathalie?”

She slowly turned to look at him. This was not the best time for stories, but as he approached her with pondering eyes, the thought of Emmanuel and Adrien and what they could possibly be up to was drowned out.

“It was the day I learnt what Amelie was like,” he began, just as he stopped a short distance before her. “I was still a new name in the fashion industry, and still working under Audrey’s watchful eye. I had just gotten engaged with Emilie and she was nagging me to meet her family, which I always tried to avoid. Apparently, Amelie had lost her patience and came to Audrey’s fashion event.”

“Without you knowing,” Nathalie added. It was just like Amelie to stir things up like that.

“Without us knowing,” Gabriel affirmed. He smiled as if he was savouring the very recollection of Emilie, no matter how bad the memory was. “Amelie… wanted to get closer to one of the men working backstage and those who saw told Audrey. And many others. Both of us knew that it was Amelie, but the gossip was already running through the building. Of course, Amelie didn’t admit that it was her.”

“Why would she refuse?”

Gabriel looked at her as if she was asking if the sky was blue. Then, “...I don’t know.” He shook his head slowly. “But in hindsight, you can’t say that it’s unusual. She never liked me. Maybe she didn’t like it that I stole her twin from the family. Or maybe she envied Emilie because she managed to show herself to the world while Amelie, who wears the same face, was still in the shadows.” He shrugged, casting his gaze around the enclosure. “Or maybe because of something else entirely that we couldn’t even begin to guess.” He looked at Nathalie again, eyes lost somewhere between past and present. “Whatever Amelie’s reason was, Emilie didn’t want to pursue it. Not publicly, which I could understand, but not on a personal level either.”

“But that could have ended her career,” Nathalie interrupted again.

“They are sisters,” he said with a bitter smile. “This was a game they always played. Emilie was used to it. At least that’s what she told me. But I was not used to the scandal yet, and I had every intention to marry Emilie.” He shrugged. “So I used the money from my very first sales from that same fashion event to pay the gossip papers, to stop spreading the scandal, to tell the truth.” He shook his head. “I paid for the truth as if it was a lie.”

He stepped closer to her as he looked straight into her eyes.

“What I’m saying is that there are worse actions than running away from my competition. If they start to gossip about your thievery or _anything_ , there is always money to buy the truth. I did it once, and I can do it again.”

His statement surprised Nathalie so much, that she had no time or energy to conceal her shock. Did he just offer to pay his way out from a gossip she may have started? Judging from how he didn’t berate her for losing her composure, he didn’t mean to pay it from her salary.

“What?” he asked.

She slowly shook her head and looked sideways. She couldn’t say it while looking at him. “Nothing,” she muttered, and forced her eyes shut.

The scenery around them had just lost its beauty and paled in comparison.

“I just don’t think that I deserve your support.”

Just thinking about the possible parallels was ridiculous. He had outright said that he paid the magazines instead of prosecuting Amelie because he wanted to marry Emilie. _This was not the same_. It was pathetic of her to make such connections.

“Nathalie,” he said slowly, her name gentle in his voice, before she felt a small touch and a little push under her chin. She opened her eyes and let him guide her head to face him. His smile was the same as before, but his eyes were very, very warm. “Please look at me, because I want you to understand something very important.

“You have been by my side for many years now. You have been working behind the scenes for all my fashion shows, even if some of them were destined to be disastrous. You prevented situations that would make fine gossip. You were there, and have stayed resolutely there, when I lost _everything_.”

“Gabriel…” She barely heard her own voice. He moved his hand to her cheek, to silence her. It was frightfully effective. The feelings that ignited from every part of her body mixed with her newfound panic. No matter how he said it, the meaning was the same for Nathalie. But he couldn’t hold her in as high regard as _her_.

He _couldn’t_.

_That is… absurd..._

“And you stayed when everyone else would have run.” His tender words sounded like drums in Nathalie’s ears. A harsh warning waking up the instinct to run, before falling and never getting up again. And oh, how she could fall, so willingly into him. He ran his thumb over her cheekbone so lightly as if a feather tickled her skin.

Her uncontrollable deep exhale blew the last echoes of the drums away.

Nathalie managed to fortify herself against his eyes and look deep into them. She had no idea how long she stared, looking for anything verifying her egoistic thought that he really, truly cared about her. Or for _anything_ that explained what was happening right now.

Her fight against his terrifying closeness jolted him back to reality, where Emilie was still the reason for their actions. He broke eye contact and stepped back from Nathalie. For a moment, he glanced at the hand that now hung in the air, as if willing it for some explanation. His expression was confused, but his voice was much more bounded to reality now as he slowly dropped his hand to his side. The spell was broken.

“But you don’t have to worry about… _your worth_.” He uttered his last words with disgust. “Running away from my competition is not a capital offence. I’m sure we can come up with a story if anybody were to ask questions.”

Nathalie, who was still in a trance, tried very hard to articulate her words without tripping over her own tongue. “I have to go to the basement,” she stated lamely.

“And what do you want to do there, dear?” Éloise blasted into the respite as energetically as she had cried. When she took in the sight in front of her, her eyes narrowed. Then her lips curled into a sly smile. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Of course not.” Gabriel took one step back, just in case. His voice was so cold and distant compared to the gentleness just moments ago that, despite the warm air, Nathalie shuddered.

“ _Of course not_ ,” Éloise repeated his words. “But still, it’s a good thing that I found you first. Monsieur Trigère is looking everywhere for you two. He would make a scandal out of you.” She didn’t even try to hide that she was mocking them. “But seriously,” –her voice went down an octave–“why _were_ you two running around the property? Even a blind man could see that you’re up to something. And why the basement, Nathalie?” She looked at her with stern eyes.

Nathalie turned her head to search Gabriel’s face, only to be met with him mirroring her action. He was also asking for her opinion. Of course, she knew Éloise more than he did. Even if she could not trust Éloise–though oddly she did–it was hardly an option to keep anything secret from her at this point. So she looked into his eyes and nodded. Gabriel broke eye contact and turned his head to Éloise.

“My son and his bodyguard disappeared when the power went out. Nathalie wants to turn the electricity back on so that we can find them more easily.”

Despite him uttering nothing but the truth, Éloise was not convinced and her mischievous smile only widened at the thought of a bad lie.

“I know that you’re afraid of crowds, Gabriel,” she said. “I should have guessed that you’d be even more frightened when the lights are out.” She stepped next to him and hooked her arm through his. Gabriel groaned in discomfort.

“Why don’t I help you with the lights?” Éloise’s tone was very close to cooing. “Then we can find your son and his bodyguard.” She pulled Gabriel after her, and Nathalie followed behind. As she watched Gabriel avoid Éloise’s every touch, Nathalie felt guilty for thanking chance for having the editor appear between the hedges when she did. Nathalie just hadn’t known how much longer she could have kept her emotions sealed if Éloise hadn’t found them. At least, Éloise seemed to partly sense Gabriel’s discomfort and calmed down, though still not letting him go completely.

When they neared the basement door, Gabriel made a show of pointing near the fence in feigned interest, distracting Éloise enough for her to wander toward it, though still pulling him along with her. Nathalie immediately slipped her hand into her purse, intending to use every second Gabriel bought her. Duusu already had the keychain ready. She quickly tried each key on the door. Thankfully, only a few tries was enough, and the lock clicked open. She was about to release the breath she had unwittingly kept in her lungs, but exactly in that moment, a familiar, bodiless voice addressed her.

“The cat is out of the bag, Mademoiselle,” Lacoste’s voice said triumphantly. Only then did he step out from the cover of the hut’s wall. “What are you doing here with the house’s keys?”

She looked him over. A bored, maybe even tired man. Executive assistant to a famous fashion designer. She could deal with one of her own kind.

“I’m looking for my employer’s son and my co-worker. I need to see better if I want to do that.” Her tone was impassive as she slipped on a deadpan expression. “And then I want to return to my evening off,” she finished, before raising one eyebrow as if daring him to speak.

He narrowed his eyes, looking into hers to spot any sign of a lie. Nathalie stood down his gaze, her own answering in a strict one. After a few moments, Lacoste let out a long breath and he suddenly seemed even more tired than before.

“It’s difficult being the executive assistant, isn’t it?” he asked sympathetically.

“Difficult is an understatement,” she admitted, carefully choosing the most neutral words.

Lacoste groaned and nodded. Nathalie won this round. If he would think of her as a fellow sufferer, then she may yet convince him not to tell Trigère about the stolen keys. And that gave her a crazy idea.

“I think I’ll need help finding the switch. Can I count on you, Monsieur?”

“Anything to get back to the ballroom and the champagne.” He sighed before glancing at the hut. “But my phone is dead.”

She bit her lip just in time, before she could spill that she remembered him saying that before.

“Mine isn’t,” she said, before fishing out her phone with a bit too much enthusiasm. Then again, despite her earlier escape, what with Éloise and now Lacoste catching them, caution seemed useless at this point.

Nathalie led the way, shivering at the cold touch of the wall as she pressed her shoulder and one hand to it for support. Descending carefully into what resembled an endless abyss from the top of the stairs was especially frightening in high heels. But Lacoste hadn’t complained, and this way she could also light the steps for him better. As they were almost at the bottom, at least Nathalie hoped, voices reached them from above.

“We can argue about it,” Gabriel’s voice sounded calm, but Nathalie sensed a hint of irritation in it as well. “Or we could go down and find our assistants.”

“We could check on them _for_ you, dear,” Éloise cooed.

“No, I’m coming along.” Nathalie recognised the third voice to be Trigère’s.

“We’re coming to help, dears!” Éloise shouted down to them, and while there was no way for Nathalie to hear Gabriel’s annoyed groan, she knew that he gave sound to his discomfort.

At least another flashlight was turned on at the top of the stairs, and a new choir of slow, careful steps echoed back from the walls of the narrow passageway. Nathalie and Lacoste soon reached the bottom, and Nathalie could turn the light to scan the darkness around them. The room was small and empty, clearly serving only to access the three chambers connected to it.

“We should split up,” Nathalie said once Gabriel, Éloise and Trigère joined them and examined the room’s layout with their own flashlights.

“Oh, this is exciting!” Éloise shouted, earning the same grunt from Gabriel that Nathalie imagined he had uttered previously. “Nathalie! You’ll go with Monsieur Lacoste. Monsieur Trigère should go with Monsieur Agreste. I’ll go with them! It’s going to be like group training!”

Éloise’s suggestion ignited a burst of refusal from both Gabriel and Trigère. And it seemed that both also believed backing down to equal defeat; Trigère was raising his voice to suppress his competitor’s while Gabriel was maintaining a level tone but still stood stubborn as a rock. Each kept up, persistent in their rebuttals though they were essentially in agreement. Nathalie’s eyes flitted between the two in confusion, while Lacoste seemed to be fighting the urge to do a facepalm. Éloise hummed.

“ALRIGHT!” Éloise’s high-pitched shout was exceptionally ear-splitting between the basement’s bare walls, but it did its job of ending the argument. “Then everyone will go with their respective others,” she said. She sounded rightly amused for someone who just managed to stop two grown men with only a word.

Suddenly, she turned her full attention to Monsieur Trigère as she lightly touched his arm, seeming to forget her earlier obsession with Gabriel. At this, Nathalie noticed Gabriel taking a minute step away from the two and– _was that… relief?_

“Mind if I tag along, _Monsieur Trigère_? If you don’t hit me with a door again, that is.”

“I assure you it was an accident, Madame,” Trigère said politely.

“Oh, I know...” Éloise chuckled. “And you already promised to make it up to me,” she teased, lips forming a small pout.

There was a momentary pause before a light cough was heard.

“If you’re done with… that.” Gabriel groaned, sounding more embarrassed than angry. “Then we should split up already.”

He went over to Nathalie and opened the door closest to her. As an answer, Trigère went to the one farthest from them. Nathalie was sure that he tried to make a point of it.

Nathalie turned away from the strange team, trying her best to remain emotionless on the outside. When they were in the room, Gabriel closed the door behind them.

“Nooroo, Duusu,” he whispered and the two kwamis flew out from Nathalie’s purse. “Check the middle room. I don’t want us to stay here longer than we need to.”

Nooroo and Duusu both nodded before disappearing through the wall–the latter with a quiet chuckle–leaving Gabriel and Nathalie alone.

Nathalie directed the flashlight over the wall closest to her, taking in the contents of the chamber. There was old furniture stacked to the ceiling, making it difficult to see if there was anything on the wall. Unfortunately for them, there was no switch in sight.

“There’s way too much dust here.”

At least Gabriel tried to initiate some small talk, as far as his limited social skills allowed. At least he tried, which was more than she could say for herself. With the two of them suddenly being alone again, Nathalie could not help recalling the last conversation they had. Or the heavy meaning behind his words then.

She brushed off the thoughts.

“Let’s hope the switch is not here,” she responded in what she hoped was a flat voice, as her eyes glanced over the countless pieces of heavy-looking, dust-covered furniture that were in their way.

Gabriel stepped closer to her as his eyes moved to the same wall she illuminated, just as he turned on his own phone’s flashlight.

“Judging from the accomplices we’ve managed to gather, I don’t think you need to worry about the gossip anymore,” he said.

Nathalie bit her lower lip and the cold room slowly turned warm as the summer evening outside, if not warmer. As far as she could hear, his words were intended as nothing more than reassurance on his part. Knowing him, he had no idea what he did by reminding her of their _moment_ between the hedges, and the implications of his calming words.

This time, Duusu came to Nathalie’s rescue, when she phased through the wall and filled the room with her high-pitched voice.

“We found the switch!”


	5. Chapter 5

As far as Nathalie could see in the unnatural light, Gabriel’s expression had transformed into mild annoyance before he turned his phone’s light to illuminate the blue kwami. Duusu blinked a few times, but her otherwise wide eyes indicated that her vision didn’t need to adjust to the sudden light. Then she crossed her little arms in front of her. If Duusu could read Gabriel’s irritation, she didn’t seem to pay mind. Instead, she flew around Nathalie’s head.

“Follow me, I’ll show it to you!” she squealed before disappearing through the wall again.

Nathalie used the opportunity to flee from the stuffy room, and hurried to open the door of the middle chamber.

“Follow my voice, Mademoiselle Nathalie!” Duusu called out to her when she entered the room, followed closely by Gabriel. Duusu uttered each word slowly, as if she expected Nathalie not to be able to instantly determine where the sound came from. Gabriel demonstratively led his flashlight to the two kwamis. Duusu waved at them frantically, seemingly oblivious to Gabriel’s mild annoyance. Nooroo sat on the electric box, his shy smile betraying his own milder excitement.

“Ta-da~ This is the switch!” Duusu pointed at the box with both hands. “Uhm… do you know what to do with it?”

“It shouldn’t be difficult.” Nathalie turned her flashlight to the ground, to see what was between her and the switch. This room was smaller than the previous one, and it was filled with garden appliances. She had to step over a hose-pipe and pass a lawnmower, which must be one hell to pull up the stairs. Gabriel was not content to stay at the door either, and followed her.

Nathalie opened the box, and Gabriel peered over her shoulder as he shone his flashlight on the box for her. In it was a row of switches, all flipped up except for the first one from the left. Nathalie let out a hum. If this was the problem, then it could be solved easily. Anyone living in a flat would be familiar with it and have fixed it numerous times. Which made her wonder if the Mayor really had gone down there to check the switch and, if he had, just how much he _actually_ knew about electric panels.

She heard Duusu’s enthusiastic snuffle as she was hovering above Nathalie’s other shoulder to see everything. Nathalie pushed up the switch without any difficulty. Then nobody moved, not even the always hyperactive kwami. They waited a moment, and then–

“ _THAT’S IT?_ ” the kwami finally shouted right next to Nathalie’s ear. She could hear just how disappointed her kwami was.

“Duusu…” Nathalie and Gabriel hissed at the same time.

“Sorry,” she said and flew back into Nathalie’s purse. Nooroo followed her example, disappearing in Gabriel’s pocket. Gabriel tugged his suit with his free hand.

“What do you mean by ‘ _that’s it_ ’?”

Nathalie tensed when she heard Éloise’s voice from just outside the room. She turned to the door, and saw that Gabriel had done the same, before the sudden light illuminating the entire room urged her to shut her eyes.

“Ah, you fixed it! Good!” Éloise sang, but even her voice gave away a slight discomfort. Nathalie slowly opened her eyes. Éloise was leaning at the door now, covering her eyes. She had something in her hand that looked like... a cookie? But it disappeared in her mouth before Nathalie could figure out what it was. The small chamber behind Éloise brightened and soon Trigère and Lacoste joined her in the doorway, eyes also squinting through the sudden bright light.

“If we’re done here, then we should head back before they find us,” Trigère said. In the light, it was suddenly noticeable how the evening had taken its toll on him. His black suit was covered in dust, probably from falling face first into the gravel at the servants’ entrance. The fact that he was also munching on some food in his hand revealed that, despite his apparent anxiety now, leaving in a hurry hadn’t been so crucial for him just a minute ago.

As they left the room, Lacoste offered the contents of what was apparently a bag of cookies he had obviously secured from the third room. Gabriel rejected the offer out of spite, and Nathalie did so to keep up the appearances dictated by her boss.

Nathalie looked up the set of now well-lit stairs before stilling. She blinked. She could’ve sworn she saw some small black blur disappearing up the stairs...

She rubbed her eyes. It had been a long night.

They ascended the stairs much easier now that they could see the steps, and arrived at a completely different view from what they had left behind. The garden was swimming in gentle, white light. More light escaped from the top of the round hedge which bordered the enclosure. The view was beautiful, but somehow it lost its wild charm, and Nathalie guessed that the romantic feeling was also expelled.

Éloise and Trigère led the little group’s journey back to the ballroom. Lacoste followed closely. Gabriel and Nathalie were the last in line. They let the trio in front of them–and especially Éloise–get ahead enough so they could speak in a normal volume.

“Now we only need to get the keys back to the Mayor,” Nathalie sighed. “And find Adrien and Emmanuel if they still need finding.”

“The keys dropped from the Mayor’s pocket and someone accidentally kicked it under his chair,” Gabriel said as if he was reciting a rehearsed line. Nathalie let out a slow exhale as she pondered that. Searching the château for Adrien and Emmanuel would be a challenge on its own, but at least Gabriel’s plan allowed her to get rid of the incriminating keys that had caused so much more trouble for her than she initially anticipated.

When they had entered the ballroom, Éloise was already pulling both Trigère and Lacoste toward the serving table, disappearing into the crowd. Gabriel gently nudged her with his elbow. He discreetly gestured in the direction of the Mayor and Audrey with his head. The couple were both speaking with the _real_ electricians in front of the half-opened glass door that led to the garden. They seemed too busy to notice Gabriel and Nathalie. Things could not go any better.

They followed the long serving table until they reached the chairs the Bourgeois couple had used when the lights were out. They carefully examined the crowd around them. Some of the guests were talking, but more of them were eating. When they had made sure that even the person who nodded towards Gabriel had looked away, Nathalie dropped the keys behind her back and kicked them under one of the chairs. It felt like a great triumph to be rid of them in such a powerful manner.

_Now, to the next item on the agenda..._

But then Gabriel came up next to her and leaned closer.

“If you’re thinking about that next plan of yours, I would suggest you take a look at that table over there,” Gabriel whispered before nodding his head toward the other end of the room.

Nathalie narrowed her eyes as she searched for the table in question. She loudly gasped when she saw not only Adrien, but also Emmanuel leisurely sitting at one of the tables. Adrien was sipping orange juice, and he was visibly calmer than during the entire reception. It was like they had never been missing.

Nathalie almost ran over to them, her eyes unblinking as they trained onto them, not wanting to lose sight of them, fearing that looking away for even a second would be enough for them to disappear again.

However, as she neared them, Monsieur Mollet crossed her path. He was hugging a broken orchid as he moved. He stopped when he noticed Nathalie.

“Ah, Mademoiselle! Did you find your ward?”

“Yes,” Nathalie said, her brows furrowing. She felt a little guilt as she looked at the worn plant. It was either her or Gabriel’s fault that it fell from the window. And Trigère was blamed for it. “Will it survive?” she asked.

“It will.” Mollet pressed the orchid to his chest as he gave her a small smile. “I’ve saved many of them from worse.”

With this promise, Mollet continued down his path out from the ballroom. Gabriel caught up to her just then.

“He’s right,” he said. “He is one of the best gardeners in France.”

Nathalie nodded, but her eyes were already searching the people around the table. Thankfully, Adrien and Emmanuel hadn’t disappeared in a puff of smoke. Now, she allowed herself to calmly walk over to them. As she approached, she noticed how extremely grumpy and dusty Emmanuel was.

“Hey!” Adrien waved at them when he saw them approach.

He seemed so joyful that Nathalie couldn’t help but feel relieved that he wasn’t embarrassed after the cold treatment she gave him.

“What happened with you two?” she asked as she sat down next to him and Emmanuel. “Where were you when the lights were out?”

“Well… Emmanuel was caught sneaking into the kitchen...” _The only reason why he would be entering the kitchen was if he was following Adrien_ , Nathalie thought, but she said nothing. “And one of the cooks enlisted him as a helper. He had to slice bread and everything. They even took away his phone! I think they wanted to watch him closely. I err... think they suspected him of stealing the cheese.” At this, Adrien looked guilty. He seemed to give Emmanuel an apologetic glance that the bodyguard did not notice, but Nathalie dismissed it. _That’s absurd. He couldn’t have been responsible for that._ “I... left the ballroom because... I was trying to find him! Yeah. It wasn’t easy, because everyone was _way_ too freaked out about the aged cheese disappearing...” Adrien let out a nervous chuckle then. Halfway through his explanation, his voice had gone an octave higher. Nathalie felt her eyebrows draw closer together. He certainly wasn’t helping his case.

“Anyway, there was a whole other commotion when someone fainted in front of the service door” –Nathalie stilled–”so he managed to slip away. That’s when he found me... err, we found each other! We still need to get his phone back, though."

Adrien was acting so strangely that Nathalie momentarily forgot about her own transgressions, her focus returning to Adrien. At the end of his explanation, Nathalie raised an eyebrow. She supposed she could only take his word for it. She stole a glance at Gabriel and it seemed he was thinking the same.

Adrien’s cheerfulness faded as he met his father’s examining eyes. He looked down guiltily at his shoes. “Sorry for running away so many times, _Père_.”

“Don’t apologise to _me_ ,” Gabriel said, his neutral if not affectionate tone surprising all of them. “Apologise to Nathalie. She was a bundle of nerves during the whole evening because she thought you were ill.”

Adrien looked at her with his warmest smile.

“I’m sorry that I made you anxious, Nathalie. But I’m completely fine.”

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t contain her smile. She put her hand on his to reassure him. At this, Adrien smiled more brightly at her and some of his earlier cheer returned.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Adrien suddenly leaned over and pulled out a pair of shoes from under the table. “One of the staff gave me these. She told me that they’re for you, Nathalie.” He took a glimpse at her feet before chuckling. “I would love to ask why the Bourgeois thought that you needed an extra pair of shoes, but I guess it’s not my place to pry.”

An ear-piercing shriek cut the conversation then. They all looked in the direction the shout came from. Chloé was standing in the door, her face was red like a tomato, and she looked at her clothes in sheer panic. At first, Nathalie thought that somebody had poured drink on it, but the gown could not look any whiter. The new set looked strikingly different from the ones Chloé had worn throughout the night. It was obviously made by amateur hands, and its shape didn’t resemble the designs of the latest fashion either. But she still looked beautiful in it. Chloé however, was not of the same opinion.

“SABRINA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR EYES? This isn’t one of mine!” she shouted. Nathalie saw that the young Bourgeois’s small friend was already tiptoeing out of the room to escape her wrath.

“Oh no…” Nathalie heard a devastated whine behind her.

Nathalie turned to see a young girl, dark hair gathered into two pigtails. She was partially hiding her face behind a book as she watched Chloé. Nathalie heard the young girl muttering something about _her_ white dress. Well.

“Marinette?” Adrien’s voice was mixed with disbelief and happiness. He jumped up from his seat to greet his friend. Emmanuel followed him, leaving Nathalie and Gabriel alone. Gabriel made no remark at Adrien’s sudden departure from the table. If anything, he looked relaxed. That gave Nathalie the boldness to lean back and close her eyes.

So maybe the reception had turned out differently from what she had expected. But it could have been much worse. While they were all distressed during the evening, they were finally calm now. She listened to the music with her eyes still closed and inhaled the strawberry scent, suddenly more prominent than any other moment before. Finally, she allowed herself to relax.

When she heard screaming, she hardly managed to swallow a list of obscenities. Her eyes snapped open and her vision focused on the guests’ dynamic movement from one side of the room to the other. She turned to see what they were running _from_ –what could be so terrifying?–and had to blink a few times, trying to comprehend the sight in front of her. The ballroom’s windows were covered by huge white swathes of foam, slowly but surely crawling into the ballroom through the fountain’s canals like a gigantic bubble bath. The scent of strawberry soap was overpowering.

Though, unlike most of the guests, the younger members of the party were instead laughing and running headlong into the expanding foam, sending bits of it floating into the air. The Mayor was shouting something over the commotion that Nathalie couldn’t catch. The air conditioners were rumbling loudly, but it did nothing but add to the chaos, ripping off smaller pieces of foam from the bigger body, and sending them on a lazy journey through the air. Audrey was walking to the other side of the room in an elegant hurry, disgust clear on her face.

In a matter of minutes, the room was visibly divided. The people who feared the foam were hugging the wall, while the more fun-loving guests were laughing, playing and dancing between the bubbles. To Nathalie’s greatest surprise, the older generations formed part of the latter. Meanwhile, Trigère and the now conscious Bernède were nonchalantly leaning against a round-shaped bar table. They were so deep in conversation that Nathalie had the suspicion that they hadn’t even noticed the foam gathering around them. Lacoste and Éloise were hovering around the dance floor, not caring that they were surrounded by others much younger than them. The ballroom was now covered in a sea of white.

The whole situation was so beautiful and chaotic at the same time that Nathalie forgot herself and chuckled.

“Do you find it funny, Nathalie?” she heard Gabriel’s calm voice.

“In any other case, I would say no. But after tonight, I would call it hilarious instead of surprising.”

He looked away. She leaned towards him and gently placed her hand on his. This drew his attention and he looked back at her. The tenderness of the moment made her smile again. She had an audacious idea. The carefully built boundaries had disappeared, and she felt that no gossip could harm Gabriel or her. People had better things to worry about than watching them anyway.

“Do you think that people will talk if we dance?” she asked.

There was a spark of interest in his eyes as he stared at her. He blinked and looked away. “That’s a ridiculous question.” Nathalie calmly waited. Despite his words, he hadn’t pulled his hand away.

“It’s not the gossip. We’re too old and professional for that.”

“Come on, Gabriel,” she coaxed, gently tightening her grip on his hand. “You almost exposed yourself tonight and I almost ruined your image. And we made it out without consequences. For once, everything that happened worked in our favour. We should celebrate that.”

He closed his eyes and exhaled, but he shifted his hand so that hers was in his.

“A professional dance to thank you for your long-standing dedication to my business wouldn’t stir much gossip.” He looked at her, eyes filled with unspoken words. “If we are careful.”

“We will be,” she said, and already she knew that she would have to pay extra attention to stay true to her prematurely spoken words.

Gabriel led her to the dance floor, strategically stopping at the corner where the foam was the shortest. When he stood face to face with her and placed his other hand on her waist, she suddenly couldn’t remember the steps of any dance. But as he took the first step, following him came natural to her. Following him was something she knew well. It didn’t hurt that he was an exceptionally good dancer, she thought, as she allowed herself to become familiar with the steps again.

“You’re right,” he confessed. “There’s nothing to lose. If we are wise, that is.”

“And we are,” she said as she spun under his arm. “Thank you for going easy on Adrien. He deserves a night off. _You_ deserve it, too.” she added, looking deep into his eyes.

“You deserve it, too,” he echoed, examining her face. “And so does Emmanuel,” he added, and they looked at the bodyguard who was making small circles around Adrien and Marinette, carrying one of the twins on his shoulders while the other girl was skipping after them. Not far from them, a woman in a cook’s attire held empty soap bottles with printed strawberries on them in her arms, anxiously saying something to the Mayor, her eyes desperately apologetic. The Mayor kept nodding, then with his hands gestured towards the corner of the ballroom where the people were enjoying the foam. Then his expression became stricter, but it immediately softened again. The cook seemed relieved.

Then Adrien attracted the attention of those around him with his loud laughter. He pointed at something in the book spread over his and Marinette’s leg. His eyes were closed from his laughter, while Marinette grinned awkwardly at him, turning the hard page of the photo album.

“I admit, I am happy to see him laugh like that.” She heard the gentleness in Gabriel’s tone. “I admire him. It’s almost like he forgot how to feel sad.”

They stopped dancing. Nathalie looked back at Gabriel, and when she saw his slight, bitter smile, she gently squeezed his hand and brought it to his chest. His eyes lowered to their joined hands and Nathalie’s followed.

“He didn’t forget,” she muttered so only he could hear. “Never for a moment believe that he forgot.” Then she looked straight into his eyes. “Both you and I know what time can do. His wounds just mended.”

He kept her gaze for a long time. He was thinking again.

“We have certain responsibilities,” he whispered so carefully as if he was afraid that the words would burn his tongue.

She looked at their hands again. She didn’t need to see his eyes to understand what was behind his statement. Just to think he would ever be as free as his son was... how did he reach that? It seemed impossible–Gabriel had dark secrets and burdens Adrien could not begin to fathom, and neither would he want to place that weight on his son. He had a reason to not let his wounds mend. As for Nathalie, she was stuck in between. And after tonight, she suspected that he was, too.

All she could do was respect him enough not to push him in one direction or the other. It was his decision to make. So she rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb as she gathered the right words for her answer.

“We do. And we will succeed. I have no doubts about it.” She looked up at him again, with a bitter smile of her own. “But laughter is important.”

He was deep in his thoughts again. Then he squeezed her hand lightly before moving it from his chest back into its original position, pulling her a little closer to him in the process. He smiled awkwardly at her, but it was gone in a heartbeat. It was a promise, meant only for her.

He stepped forward with one leg, and she stepped back, continuing their briefly interrupted dance. As they turned around, cutting their path in the foam, Nathalie caught a glimpse of Adrien again. He was looking at them, his carefree laughing was replaced by a warm smile Nathalie hoped only she could interpret.

So she kept dancing, hoping that the day Gabriel made his final decision would soon come. Whatever it would be–keeping to his responsibility or following his heart–she knew that she would be there for him. At least, for now, Nathalie allowed herself to enjoy the peaceful times they did have, twirling under his arm once more before he pulled her close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the chaos was my attempt to be funny, but some parts are not the creation of my mind. There are scenes and a few lines which originate from The Party (1963) (the layout of the ballroom, the foam, some sentences from the last conversation between Nathalie and Gabriel), a movie that aged very badly, but credit is given where credit is due. :)


End file.
